


Book One; Suseiil

by Kaliina_Calico



Series: Infinite Sky; Infinite Six [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Biology, Alien Character(s), Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Planet, Alien Sex, Aliens, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Character Death, Consensual Underage Sex, Death Threats, F/F, F/M, Gen, Graphic Description, I'm Sorry, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major Illness, Minor Character Death, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Original Fiction, Other, Pedophilia, Pirates, Plot Twists, Sex, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Underage Drinking, Underage Rape/Non-con, Violence, Wow, again only by human standards, all original themes, but not really, only by human standards, oof, really weird, this is all my property, you get the point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-01-22 15:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21304370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaliina_Calico/pseuds/Kaliina_Calico
Summary: Suseiil Mia'Coto, also called The Raider, is in charge of killing notorious villain Firehorns. Can she save her crew and kill the beast, or will she die trying? Will her father ever forgive her for leaving? Who is this small child she must now take care of, truly?Tohriid'Alm, First Mate to the grey ship Alm'Arro and second in command to The Raider is in trouble. With nowhere to go, and held captive by Firehorns with his crewmmates, he must learn more about himself, the enemy, and his captain. Is Firehorns as terrifying as they were told? Will he kill the grey crew, or release them? But most pressingly is this war really worth it?Not abandoned! In the works still!
Relationships: Original Characters/Original Characters
Series: Infinite Sky; Infinite Six [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535900
Kudos: 5





	1. The Harbor; The Ravager; The Child?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my brother and my friends](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+brother+and+my+friends).

The ship rocked in the bay, ropes swaying and clanking against their chains. The bay of Travesh’nall was loud and bustling, Trolks and Syriine alike running to and from ships or the town. Suseiil hated this bay, it was too large and extravagent, the trolks trying too hard to be overly kind to her and her crew. As the six of them left the docks, locking the ship’s ladder behind them, she wondered why her father insisted on Travesh’nall being their meeting place.

“My Captain, Suseiil! You are as lovely and perfect as I had envisioned. I hope you will enjoy your stay at Travesh’nall and visit again soon. May I…” the trolk guiding her crew through the crowded boardwalks jabbered on, blissfully ignoring her annoyance.

Tohriid’alm leaned to her jestingly, whispering loudly “ Shall I seperate his horns and throat to silence his jabbering? Or will you task that to The Ravager?” The crew behind them tittered jovially, Suseiil supressing her own laugh as the guides mouth snapped shut.

“We ought not to kill anyone tonight- we’ve plenty heads to cleave clean tomorrow, if my father’s intel is correct.” Tohriid’alm chuckled lowly, and the crew cheered as they approached The Ravager and his ship- Bwour’iilvan.

Suseiil’s father leapt from the deck onto the walk, laughing at something his crewmate had said out of her earshot. He clapped a large hand onto her shoulder, his other reaching out to greet her. She clasped his large hand in hers- minding the webbing- and pressed her forhead to their thumbs.

“Klo-hoyy, Daphaa. Mie alm cociesh dep’trahm phet-shol.” She greeted him in their more native Sylvian tongue.

Her father’s voice rumbled out a similar greeting as he turned to her guide. “Klo-hoyy, Abra. Is your guide jabbering? I told him you wouldn’t appreciate it if he couldn’t shut his gaping maw.” Suseiil laughed gently, hand falling away from The Ravager’s.

Ryaiin came behind her, bowing a quiet greeting of their own. “Klo-hoyy, Ravager. We were only jesting of separating his throat a moment ago. Did you send this rambling fool? I thought our Captain had sent for him at first, but it makes more sense you would. Perhaps next time, however, you can send a mute?” Suseiil could practically hear her father’s teeth grind his gums and she shoves Ryaiin behind Tohriid’alm.

“Forgive our newest. They do not know your rank so well as to hold their tongue. I’ll be sure to lash them for the insolence.”

Her father grinned, sharp teeth flashing white and yellow, before turning to the guide. “My Ravager- I did not mean to ram-” His cries, and his throat, are cut short by The Ravager’s claws- silence surrounding the group.

“I don’t enjoy my subjects whining and begging- his weakness and jabbering maw is his own downfall. As for your new little runt of a runner, they can speak to me if they remember that I am in charge of even their captain. Am I not?” He turns back to the group, wiping rusty-orange onto his tunic covering.

“Of course, Daphaa- they will not make the mistake again,” Suseiil answers quickly and bows her head slightly.

“Good. Now, we have work to discuss. Your crew can go into town and gather supplies,” Ravager drops a sack of shells and coins into Suseiil’s hands, “This is for our mission expenses and food- not their own pockets. I know what exactly there will be when they are done.” Suseiil nods, tossing the sack to her second-mate, Tohriid’Alm.

“You heard him- now go- and follow the list to a tee or you’ll lose much more than what your pride is worth to you.” Her crew nods, knowing better than to speak out of turn now.

As they disappear into the town, Suseiil follows The Ravager aboard Bwour’iilvan. She glances one last look to her own ship, across the docks, and holds her breath for a moment. Criela’Sorhel was not a patient captain, and she hoped her crew could be efficient.

The main deck of the Black Ship was spotless, the only rubbish to be seen being swept up by a crew member as they walked past. The trolk looks up, and they lock eyes for a brief moment. He looks away quickly and continues cleaning once she passes him fully. Her father clears his throat, opening the door to his quarters and ushering her in. He closes the door tightly behind them and she swallows silently. Suseiil has never been on his ship during her adult life- far too involved with her own.

She had forgotten much of it. The bed was missing a post on the far end, his dresser was messy and littered with stains and papers. His desk was worse then the dresser: paint chipping, varnish rubbed off, papers spilling onto the floor and ink staining the once-beautiful wood. She could smell his ashers and rum and curled her nose at the stench. Trying politely to find anything to say other than how much she wished he hadn’t invited her aboard. She wished he hadn’t ever spoken to her again. But this was the will of Rain, and where Rain sent her there would be money. She could deal with her father, and his ashers, for Rain and money. If only barely.

“You heard, I’m certain, of the newest little dirt-heap rat on land? The thing everyone calls Firehorns?” Her father has no preamble, and he pours them tall cups of rum-infused tea for their talk.

Suseiil is surprised by his question, knowing it couldn’t be serious, and scoffs “Why would I not know of that vermin, if our Rain sent me to rid Alenian soil of his flesh?”

He chuckles lowly, “Correct, of course,” He hands her her drink and sips his own before sighing. “There is chatter-”

“There is always chatter.” She cuts him off with a smirk, and he scowls at her, his eyes sharpening.

“Yes, but there is new chatter now. Chatter that he will steal a ship from her Imperial Empress, Casiiahn. An entire ship, Suseiil- could you imagine the damage he could do? What a vile creature.” He drinks deeply from his mug, adding sugar before setting it on his bedtable.

He sits on his bed, inviting her to the pauper’s seat beside it. She thinks of her mother before she sits, setting her own mug on the desk. Her mother always sat in the pauper’s chairs, and she felt rank to dare sit where her mother once did. She shrugged away the feeling and lifted her mug from the table, silently drinking the cloud of anger away. She drains nearly half the cup before looking back up at her father, fighting the scowl she can feel growing on her face by finishing the mug quickly and clearing her throat.

“Certainly he can’t simply steal a ship, daphaa. He would have to have at least a ship’s worth of spies to even get close enough to get inside the imperial docks. And another ship’s worth to get to the ship and start it.” She laughs dully, looping her ankle over her knee. “The chatter is as chatter does- He absolutely can not-”

Suseiil is cut off by the door slamming open. Her father stands swiftly, swearing and looking murderously to the intruder, dagger drawn. His arm drops as he sets eyes on his mistress- only known to Suseiil as “Header”, an insult to her on her father’s part if she had ever known one.

“By the Goddess Akiiva- what could bring you to my quarters like that, Header?” His eyes soften, and Suseiil gasps as a small child enters behind Header, who clears her throat.

“She climbed the side of the ship and insisted she had to see you, Captain. You should listen to her.”

“A mere pupa climbed my ship and marched into my quarters?” he hums in appreciation, “She has guts. Let her speak what she has to say.” Criela’Sorhel nods, sitting back down and waving the small girl over.

She aproaches carefully, stepping over a paper on the floor, and speaks only once she’s standing by the pauper’s chair. Her voice is proud and lilted. “My name is Taviil Sora'ahm. I am the daughter of Kaldurr Havesh- my mother sent me from Sylehrra.”


	2. Trading Stalls; Strange Jutspynn

Tohriid’alm walked briskly, the extra sack of money hanging off his belt alongside his own, and furs slung over his shoulder. He has a large bag, full of their items, held over his free shoulder. He leads the group as they walk through the streets of venders, gathering supplies and joking together.

“Okay, okay. But to be entirely fair- I didn’t know their species had separated sexes! Besides, it’s not my fault he didn’t know that Syrinns had bulges and cunts.” Ryaiin jokes, laughing with Meir’ard.

“Perhaps we should wear signs when dealing with non-Alenians. ‘I have two sexes.’ That would certainly let them know- so they can stop screaming when I have a larger bulge than them.” She laughs, knocking into his side gently.

“Honestlly, you two always talk about your sex lives- at some rate just have sex. Maybe you’ll make lovely little guppies together.”

Marrik’ard smacks Kaldurrs head, growling. “Don’t you encourage her- she has half the crew under her belt… Of several ships beyond ours, at that point.” He glares at Ryaiin and points to his scabbard. “And you- don’t make me kill our newest crew member. It’s a waste of salary”

“Easy there, big guy,” Kaldurr rests a hand on the chef’s shoulder before turing to Ryaiin and stage whispering. “He won’t really kill you, friend. He quite simply has his dagger shoved a little to the left of his-”

Tohriid cuts her off, pulling her away from the runner. “Kaldurr, that’s quite plenty of that. We need to keep moving, I’ve yet to find the stall listed on the parchment and it’s already been far too long to keep Ravager waiting any extra. Not to mention Suseiil has her own list of supplies- for the Alm’arro.”

They continue walking in comfortable silence, passing all of the stalls and turning to the next street of merchants. Kaldurr stops by the third stall of the new street; something labelled ‘Mountain’s Furs, Ashers, and Rum’. The jutspynn at the stall looks at their furs, and then at the heavy wallets, and smiles. Their sharp teeth glint in the moonlight like coral.

“Would you happen to enjoy a smooth asher, or perhaps some fine mountain rum? I have plenty of each- for a price. Here, try the goods- see if you like them. I’m sure you’ll want a whole box each when you’ve tasted.” they pass a small box of ashers, and a sample of their liquor, to Ryaiin.

“Tohriid, both ashers and rum are on his list- it couldn’t hurt to sample them first.” Ryaiin says, grabbing the box and vial- He passes an asher to their First Mate.

Tohriid sighs heavily, taking the asher and pulling out his lighter. “We each may taste, but we have to move swiftly- Ravager is not a patient Trolk.” He reminds them as he lights the asher, putting it to his lips and breathing deeply.

“You work with The Ravager?” The merchant looks almost scared, but also in curious awe of the group. Tohriid passes the asher to kaldurr, tasting the vial of rum quietly.

“Somewhat- we work for his daughter, The Raider. We are partnering for a mission.”

“Ah- what kind of mission?” The merchant mocks interest, watching as the vial and the asher passes through the crew.

“You shouldn’t pry into affairs you’ve no business in you-” Ryaiin starts to tell him off, the beginning of an insult on his tongue when Kaldurr interupts him.

“We are going to kill Firehorns, we have intel he is planning something within the perigree- stealing from her Imperial Empress,” Kaldurr blurts.

Kaldurr looks shocked, the rest of the crew stopping as her eyes go wide in both realization and shock.

“Why would you tell him that, Alm-for-brains? That’s classified information!” Meir’ard gapes, grabbing Kaldurr by her tunic.

The jutspynn watches in amusement before piping up again,“Thank you, sailor. Now, tell me, who is your captain?”

Meir’ard slaps a hand over Kaldurr’s mouth, scowling. The jutspynn smiles wickedly at them as Marrik’ard tries in vain to stop Tohriid from answering. Tohriid rips away from him roughly.

“My captain is Suseiil Mia’Coto- The Raider. Our ship is Alm’arro Setch Ziige.” Tohriid’alm gasps at himself. “What did you do to me? Why would I tell you that?”

He reaches for the dagger at his side, glowering at the merhant.

“Have some rum, clear your mind- have your whole crew try it.” The jutspynn laughs before Tohriid can grab the weapon, passing a small bottle to him.

Tohriid’alm’s eyes go wide before clouding. He takes the bottle silently and drinks a large sip, passing it to Kaldurr. Ryaiin grabs the botle away, trying to throw it when Tohriid grabs Ryaiin harshly, pulling him against his chest and holding him still.

“Drink up, friend. Drink and clear your mind.”

“Yes, drink, Ryaiin. Drink or I’ll force you.” Kaldurr grabs the bottle, putting it to her lips and drinking her share.

Her eyes have the same gleam as Tohriid’s and Ryaiin nearly chokes as the bottle is tilted to his mouth. Kaldurr, keeping a rough hand pressed into his gills and forcing his mouth open, pours some onto his tongue.

Marrik’Ard, moves to stop Kaldurr from pouring it down Ryaiin’s throat, dagger drawn, only to be grabbed by his sister. Drunken and drugged, she pours the last of the vial into his mouth, clamping her hand over his mouth and nose to force him to swallow.

“Drink up, brother… We have work to do.”


	3. As The Morning Sets In; Where Did They Go?

“They should ‘ave been back by now, shouldn’t they ‘ave?” The small pupa asks quietly, “You both look just a tad worried- or I guess The Ravager looks more pissed than worried. Not ‘is crew, is it, miss?”

“No, they are of my crew. And yes, they certainly are running late. It’s already almost moonfall- honestly I’m sure they’ve either gotten lost, kidnapped, or we left them too much money and they’ve run.”

“They haven’t run. The street market here is abysmal, they’re probably so lost they forgot what ship to return to. I should have sent some of my crew- perhaps your brother.” Criela looks frustrated and impatient- an unhealthy mix.

“I’m sure they’re on their way, miss. From what I hear Kaldurr don’t get too lost too often.”

“No, they don’t. Neither does my runner or my first mate, and knowing how fast Tohriid’alm is about following orders they haven’t possibly dawdled that much.” Suseiil worries her bottom lip in her fangs, a small pearl of blood pooling over her chin- staining the skin deep purple.

“Don’t bite yourself, Abra. If you plan on getting a Fletching you can’t have it over a scar.” Her father chastises quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“What’s a Fledgling?” 

“A Fletching,” Header enunciates, “is a kind of piercing that Captain’s get after sweeps of service to our Rain.” 

“Oh… Can I git one after I become a Captain? How many sweeps do I ‘ave ta serve ‘im?” Taviil smiles, her small fangs glinting in the early sun shining through the curtains.

“Perhaps one day, after several sweeps- if Rain decides yer worthy.” 

Criela’Sorhel rises, striding to the window to shutter the black curtains- blocking out the sunrise. He walks to a ladder, opening a small hatch below it. 

“You should go to the crew’s quarters and sleep. I’m sure they found adequate lodgings for today. They’ll be back by nightfall.” 

“Of course, Daphaa. Come along, little one. Your Amaa will be here when you wake up.” Suseiil takes Taviil’s hand, guiding her down the ladder to the crew’s quarters. Calling over her shoulder as she goes down she adds, “Sleep well, Daphaa. Sleep well Header.”

“Good day, Abra. Keep an eye on the pupa, her Amaa will want to find her in good health.” 

Header and The Ravager close the hatch, locking it behind her as she finds an empty bed.


	4. The Food Here is Edible; We Won't Kill You

Kaldurr sniffs at the small tray, but does not touch it. Her crew members look wary of their own food as well, huffing and pushing the rank slop away.

“If you don’t eat what we give you, you won’t be able to make the journey to the mountains. Now eat your food before I have to force you to.” The jutspynn eyes them with disdain, pushing a tray of water glasses onto the table.

“We’ll eat it if you do- but we won’t touch a bite if you don’t prove it isn’t laced.” Tohriid’alm shoves his tray of food, and a water glass, to their captor roughly.

“Fine. I’ll eat with you- but only because I can’t afford you dying on our trip.” They grumble, picking up a few fingers wort of food in their claws. 

They wrinkle their nose before they taste it, chasing it with water and waiting a moment.

“It may not be perfect tasting- I’m not a cook and I won’t lie that it’s not vile. But it’s the only food I can spare, and it’s eatable. The water is fine too, guard’s honour.” The jutspynn rolls their sleeve, showing the brand of an imperial guard of Lavaaria.

“You were a guard for the Long-eared beasts? They hardly have horns, and their blood is rank. Why turn on your people for those things?” 

“Marrik’ard, watch your stupid mouth. Your alm-for-brains cunt is gonna get us all killed. What a jutspynn does for work doesn’t matter to me. Now eat, all of you- they proved it safe enough.” Meir’ard pulls her tray to herself, grabbing a tall glass of water.

“I don’t trust it- he could be immune to whatever’s in it.” Marrik crosses his legs petulantly, “Meir- Meir’ard at least slow down- you’re gonna choke!”

Meir’ard does not slow down, simply clawing her food into her mouth quickly, chasing bland bites of food with water as she scoops more into her fingers. “It’s perfectly fine, now eat or I will.”

She huffs, shoving a tray to her sibling as she drinks her water.

Kaldurr pulls her own tray to her seat, tentatively clawing a small sample of the food to her lips. “It’s almost entirely flavourless- how did you manage to make food have no taste?”

“I said I made no claims of being a chef of any kind. How I manage to be so inept at cooking, I simply couldn’t tell you. I just am.” 

Ryaiin and Tohriid reach for their trays last, silently sipping their water before touching their slop.

“What’s even in this? Plants? You can’t possibly have found enough edible plants as to make food for an entire grey ship’s crew.”

Marrik’ard pushes his claws through his mush, watching it slowly slide back into place like thick mud. Ryaiin crunches his nose at him. 

“Don’t play with it! That’s disgusting. Just eat it and deal with whatever plants or meats is in it. It doesn’t matter- it’s edible and it’s lucky they’re feeding us at all.” 

Tohriid laughs, “I doubt there’s much meat in this, what else could it be other than plants?” 

“Sweet virgin heiress, Meir! Try not to kill yourself, scarfing down your food like we’ve been starved.” Kaldurr balks, leaning over to Meir and pulling her nearly-empty tray towards herself.

“They very well might decide to, eat before it’s taken from us,” she growls, “Now hand me back my food!”

Tohriid shifts in his seat, avoiding the argument entirely. Marrik’ard, on the other hand, decides to delve into the heart of it. He flicks Kaldurr’s fin and growls lowly.

“Give her her food and eat your own, now. If she dies of stuffing herself like a beast, that’s her problem. And Meir’ard you had better slow down for a moment. Breathe for Heiress’ sake.” 

“Fine!” they say in unison.

Their captor smiles broadly and grabs himself a bowl of slop. “I take it these two are related? They seem very close.”

“Close to killing each other, maybe- Meir I said pace yourself!” Marrik’ard balks as Meir’ard chokes on her hard bread.

Kaldurr hits her back carefully but firmly, and she coughs hard into a rag, gagging on her food for a moment before she can breath.

“Meir is actually my twin, Kaldurr is just our crew mate... Them two fight more than us Sibs.” He finishes his thought once Meir’ard sips her water, pretending she hadn’t ever choked. He smirks as she takes another, smaller bite, and chews.

“I see. I have six siblings. Three sisters, three brothers. We never fought, but that’s only cause we were all too different in ages. You can’t beat up a cub at 12 sweeps old.” The Jutspynn spoons a small bite of slop into their mouth, grimacing as they swallow.

“You aren’t too curious about twins from one egg? Is it more common for your folk?” Ryaiin asks, wiping his claws on his pocket rag.

“My youngest sisters are twins- completely identical except the tails. If they tucked them in their trousers you’d never know they weren’t the same kit- cub now, I suppose.” He breaks off a piece of bread and uses it to eat with.

Ryaiin smiles, “I never had sibs- can’t imagine having 6 of ‘em.” he jokes dryly.

Marrik’Ard smacks his horn and he jumps, squeaking. “What’d you do a thing like that for, Alm-Head?”

“Stop being so friendly to strangers!”

“You were the one who told him all about your siblinghood!”

Just as they both go to fight, Tohriid steps in, growling loudly. They all stop to look at him, even the strange captor.

“If you two fight, I’m snapping your horns for Suseil. You both know better- and you know better than to keep giving the damned kidnapper all your information. Now all of you shut your grub-holes.”

He sits back down, settling into complete silence as he eats. Ryaiin and Marrik sit as well, finishing their food quietly. 

As the crew finishes eating, several more Jutspynns and a handful of trolk enter the clearing of the cave. They each carry armfuls of traded goods and coin skins. Their holder stands and says something in a language only they seem to know, and they all turn to the crew. 

Upon eating, the crew had been tied up again, and then to each other- they couldn’t get away if they were attacked. Kaldurr shivered anxiously.

“Grav’a’Trehl, who are these people and why have you bound them? Did they find you here?” A tall, imposing, trolk asks.

“No, no- I found them at the trade stalls. They work for Rain- er- for the Grey ship Alm’Arro Setch Ziige. Their Captain is the Daughter of the Ravager- Raider.” The Justspynn explains, looking nervously at the crew.

The trolk beams, “So they are guests! Can you two please untie our guests, and-” he stops gesturing at the two trolks beside him and quickly turns to their captor, “Did you feed them?”

“I- yes, I gave them rations. I wouldn’t starve them!” He looks scandalized and Ryaiin stifles a chuckle.

“I was just checking, considering you thought it proper to bind them.” He stoops down with the other trolks and helps untie Kaldurr and Tohriid.

“Thank you, you’re much more hospitable than- Grav was it?” Ryaiin says, taking the mystery trolk’s hand to stand up.

“Yes, of course. You are our guests, not hostages- well. you still can’t leave for now. We need all the talons possible for the journey to the mountain.” He smiles, blunted teeth grey and yellow with use.

Tohriid eyes the larger group wearily, “Yes, it’s well and good you won’t kill us. But we won’t be sticking around.” He makes to grab his bag, and his blades, but is stopped as a lithe Jutspynn grabs a hold of him.

“Sadly, no- you’ll be accompanying us until you’re far enough from the main bay to not call for Raider or Ravager. We may not harm you, but we’ll keep hold of you. Now drop the bag!”

“Kaliina! Unhand him. He hasn’t done anything wrong.” She lets go immediately, eyes wide.

Once her grip is gone she bows shallowly to apologize. “I am sorry, my Firehorns.”

Meir’Ard screams.


	5. NOT A CHAPTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an update not a chapter im very sorry. I'll try and upload a new chapter asap

I'll preface by apologizing for not updating for real for so long. I really want to but i keep getting distracted. By writers block, school, and personal issues at home. With the virus, hopefully i can clean up, get some motivation, and continue working.

I'd also love if maybe i could get some ideas in the comments for any suggestions or tips. I greatly appreciate the kudos and they make me feel so much better about my works so thank you guys for the kudos.  
Please stay safe and practice social distances as much as you can.   
Thank you for reading, my darlings, dears, and queers   
-Kaliina.

**Author's Note:**

> this honestly isn't close to done, and I really hope to finish it by 2022 so i can really publish it as my first novel. this is only one part out of six in my "infinite sky, infinite six" series. i really hope you enjoy it so far, and can find it if it really becomes a novel.


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